24 Hours
by JennyLB
Summary: Crane and Abbie have 24 hours to break a spell put on Sleepy Hollow. But as Crane is injured in the process, it's up to Abbie to keep him safe until they can together fight the evil demon and save their town from further bloodshed.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: "You Don't Love Her"

_Saturday, December 14, 2013, 1:17 am_

"Katrina!" Crane screamed as he struggled to catch his breath. She was fading away, and he couldn't reach or even see her any longer. "Katrina! Katrina!" he screamed again, distressed by the loss he was feeling. "Please come back to me Katrina!" he franticly shouted, tears emitting from his eyes and running down his cheeks.

A few minutes later he could hear Katrina calmly yelling from the distance, "Wake up, my love. You will die if you stay asleep! Wake up!"

Becoming cognizant of the meaning of her words, Crane struggled to open his eyes. As he did, however, he gasped desperately for air like a drowning man having been brought to the surface. The pain on his throat was becoming unbearable. As the moment became clear to him, he saw Morales standing before him with an out-stretched hand grasping tightly over his throat. During that moment, the two men stared intensely at one another. Morales was apparently too crazed to comprehend the fright in Crane's eyes and the impact of his actions.

Crane recognized that look from the night before. It was a look of a man under a spell in an altered, demonic state.

"Oh my God," Crane thought to himself. "It's happening again." Before his life could dissipate before him, Crane gathered his wits to bring up his leg so he could knee Morales in the groin.

As the pain registered with Morales, his grip lessened on Crane's throat. Crane then used his leg to reach back up and shove his foot into the middle of Morales's gut, knocking the air out of him and sending him backwards and onto the floor.

What Crane was unable to figure out a few hours before was becoming much more clearly to him now. "Oh my God," he repeated aloud, his voice barely audible from the pressure having been put on his windpipe. He felt ignorant for not immediately seeing this.

Crane, having fallen asleep sitting by his fireplace as he read through ancient texts collected by Sheriff Corbin, was bootless and coatless. But he knew he needed to get out of the little cabin and away from Morales. He needed to reach Abbie. As he struggled toward the door, he could feel Morales jumping on his back from behind.

"You don't love her," Morales chanted. "I do."

Crane struggled to break free of Morales's tight grip on his back, knowing that in order to survive, he needed to break the spell. But, at that moment he had yet to figure out exactly what that entailed, so he needed to get to Abbie.

"I…know…" Crane struggled to say in a rough, throaty half-whisper. He then felt a blow to the back of his head. The pain was excruciating, and he struggled to stay on his feet. No longer able, Crane collapsed onto the floor near the door he had managed to get halfway open.

Within what felt like a minute later, Crane opened his eyes to see Morales standing over him. His eyes were glazed and fixed. "Morales!" Crane yelled as loudly as possible. "Don't do this!"

"You don't love her. I do," Morales flatly answered. He then reared back his leg and landed his blow on Crane's ribcage.

The kick felt like his side had landed on an explosive. Crane knew at that instance that if he didn't get out of there, Morales would kill him. As Morales attempted to rear back his foot again, Crane reached forward and grabbed his foot. Morales tripped, and Crane grabbed the wooden lamp from the end table and crashed it over Morales's forehead, momentarily causing him to be knocked unconscious. Crane then got to his feet and headed out the door. He ran wildly toward the woods, his feet stinging with the cold ground and his throat burning from the rawness created by the chocking. Crane struggled to fill his lungs with air as he ran into the woods for a safe place away from Morales.

As he ran, he heard a few minutes later from the distance Morales shouting, "You don't love her! I do! You don't love her! I do!"

Crane continued to run through the woods toward town. But it was a four mile distance, and he knew in his present condition that he would never make it. Blood from the head wound was beginning to run down his neck and shoulders, warming his neck against the frigid night. His vision began graying with spots of bright lights exploding in his eyes. Knowing that he could not go much further, Crane found a large tree and put his back toward the trunk so he could slide down to the ground. The pain in his ribs was horrific, but he continued to slide down slowly until he landed safely onto the ground. He then worked to control his breathing. His breath blew out in small clouds of vapor into his face.

He then remembered and felt in his pocket the small device Abbie had given him to call her if he needed her when they were not together. She had called it a cell phone and had instructed him to hit the number one key and wait until he heard her voice. Fumbling to open it up and press the key, Crane then waited as he heard ringing in his ear. He wondered if it was the contraption or the head wound. He then heard Abbie's voice as clearly as if she were sitting right beside him.

"Crane? Is that you? You okay?" Abbie asked.

"Lieutenant?" Crane asked, confused by the tiny device. "You said to use this if I were in trouble…and needed to garner your assistance."

"Yes?" Abbie answered.

"Well, I think…this is one…of those instances."

"What is it Crane? It's after midnight…" Abbie said as she pulled her alarm clock toward her. "No, I take that back. It's after 1:00 am."

"It's Morales…"

"What?" Abbie asked as she pulled herself to her feet. "What about him?"

"I think he's under that spell…like the one we just saw this evening. I know now what it is, Miss Mills. This is not…."

Silence.

"Crane!" Abbie yelled.

No answer.

"Crane! Stay with me. Are you hurt?"

No answer.

"What's going on? Crane!" Abbie yelled, getting more anxious as the other end of the line continued to be silent.

After a few minutes, Crane quietly said into the phone, "Miss Mills, I don't feel…well."

"Stay with me, okay? Keep your phone on, and I will track you there. Okay? Just keep talking to me!"

"Lieutenant, I am the tracker…not you," Crane shakily whispered.

"I can find you through the phone you're speaking into. Just keep it on. I can find you."

Crane was confused by such a thing but trusted his partner. "I can hear…Morales…in the distance. Not sure…how much longer…I have until…he finds me," Crane responded.

"I will get there…don't you worry. Just hold tight," Abbie answered.

"Hold on…to what, Miss Mills?" Crane asked, still having difficulty with colloquialisms of the modern day English language.

"No…no…I just mean, um, stay right where you are," Abbie answered, still forgetting the barrier that was often prevalent between them that the differences in their language presented.

"I am here, Miss Mills…and hope that…you locate me…before Detective Morales… because he is out for…blood," Crane said. He then added, "My…blood."

Trying to keep Crane awake, Abbie asked, "You think you know what this is…what's causing this?"

"Yes…Lieutenant…I think…I know," Crane replied.

Abbie could hear his voice getting weaker. "Crane!" she yelled. Stay with me! I'm almost there."

"Be careful…Miss Mills," Crane warned.

Abbie arrived in a grinding halt at the location closest to the woods where the red blip of the GPS tracker on her phone indicated Crane was hiding. Dust flew all around her as she emerged from her car. She then ran into the woods toward her partner's location. She could hear Morales yelling into the woods, "You don't love her! I do!" His voice appeared to be a good distance from both her and Crane.

"Lieutenant, I need…to sleep," Crane whispered.

Abbie could hear his teeth chattering. "I'm almost there," she said, trying to reassure him as she trudged through the dark woods, branches hitting her in the face and body.

"No offense, Miss Mills, but…you said that…awhile back," Crane responded.

Abbie decided it best not to banter back. His voice was weakening with each response. "I am here, okay? I'm almost to you."

"Okay, Miss Mills," Crane said as he leaned forward to relieve the pressure off his head wound. But that movement intensified the unbearable pain in his ribs.

With that small movement, Abbie was able to see him in the immediate distance before her. Her heart rate spiked as she saw him helplessly propped up against the tall Oak. Running toward him, she got to Crane's side and tried to muster up a smile as she knelt beside him. "Can you walk?"

Crane opened his eyes as wide as they would go and returned her smile. "Glorious…to see…you, Miss Mills." His voice was faint and intermittent.

"We need to get out of here. Can you get to your feet?"

Crane leaned back and answered in a raspy whisper, "I shall…try."

As he leaned forward and pulled up his knees to get to his feet, Abbie could see the blood that had soaked into the back of his shirt from his head wound. "Come on, let me help you," Abbie suggested as she put her arms across his back to support him as he got to his feet. She could see him gritting his teeth and presumed it was to fight against the pain.

"Thank you…Lieutenant…for coming to help…me. Morales has…been cursed…."

"Let's wait and talk in the car, okay?" Abbie asked.

"He can't…be blamed…" Crane added.

"Now that's big of you. Come on, we're almost there." Abbie put pressure on Crane's back to encourage him to walk faster.

Together they headed through the dark woods toward Abbie's car, hearing in the distance the monotonous chanting of Morales, "You don't love her! I do!"

His voice continued to get closer and closer.

Crane could feel his knees weakening as together they stepped around the trees and through the thickets. "Miss Mills, I…need…to…rest…a…moment," Crane struggled to say as he could feel the last bit of consciousness slipping away from him.

Abbie held on to Crane tightly as he leaned heavily on her shoulders. "Stay with me, Crane!" She begged as she could feel him slipping downward. Much taller than she, Crane was too much for Abbie to support. Beginning to fall, Crane gave in as Abbie reached downward to try and grasp his lanky frame.

Hitting the ground, Crane could feel the pain intensifying in his broken and bruised ribs. "Awwww," he moaned. The pain shot an adrenaline rush throughout his body.

Abbie crouched down beside him. Moving the hair stuck on his forehead over his eyes, she realized how cold his skin was to her touch. "We've got to get you out of here before you freeze to death. Crane!" she whispered loudly into his face. Turning him over onto his back, Abbie could see from the change in his facial expression the pain he must be enduring. As she pulled up his shirt, she could see the bruising over the right side of his ribcage. She surmised that he had a broken rib or two and remembered how horrific the pain of broken ribs was. "I know you're in terrible pain, but we have to get out of here."

Crane roused and looked up at her. "Okay…Miss…Mills," he whispered in response.

Abbie reached down and scooped her arms up around his back, pulling him upwards. She saw him gritting his teeth against the agony. "Just one step at a time. We're almost to my car."

Crane leaned heavily on Abbie and concentrated on each step as they moved forward, continuing to hear Morales's sardonic chanting in the background as it appeared to get closer and closer to them as they slowly made their way to her car up ahead.

"You don't love her! You don't love her!" he chanted.

They made their way to Abbie's car within a few minutes. She held tightly to him with one hand as she opened the door with the other and gently pressed down on his shoulders to guide him into the front seat. Crane panted in and out to try to relieve the pain on his ribs, head, and throat. Abbie then ran to the driver's side and started the ignition, turning on full blast the heat and shifting the vents to blow the warm air onto Crane.

Emerging from the woods was the dark form of Morales as he stepped onto the road a few hundred feet in front of their car. "You don't love her! You don't love her!" he screamed as he barreled headlong toward their car.

Abbie could see that Crane was struggling to stay alert, probably in an attempt to try and protect her if necessary. Throwing the car into drive, Abbie bore down on the gas and blew past Morales as he continued to stand in the road, screaming, "You don't love her!"

The car flew down the road toward town.

"What the hell do we do now?" Abbie asked in an incredulous tone of voice.

Crane turned slightly to look at her.

Abbie could see Crane looking at her from her peripheral view so she turned to look at him. "What the hell is happening, Crane? Who is doing this?"

"I fear…it's…Succorbenoth," Crane answered, turning back around and leaning his head against the cold window.

Abbie didn't know who that was, but at the moment she knew she needed to get Crane to safety. She could hear his muffled, strained breathing as he sat beside her in a restless half-sleep.

They continued to speed toward town.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: "She is Mine, Not Yours!"

_Friday, December 13, 2013, 6:03 pm_

7 hours earlier…

"Call for backup if you need us," Abbie yelled toward her former lover as he and his partner headed toward the door on a domestic violence call.

Still angry and hurt over their breakup, Morales turned around and looked at Abbie and Crane sitting closely together with stacks of old books all around them.

"Us? Yeah right," Morales answered as he looked from Abbie to Crane. He kept his eyes glaring at Crane for much longer than he had looked at Abbie.

Both Abbie and Crane could feel the contempt in his voice, but Crane was unfazed by him. Morales had not made it a secret that he had no use for the Oxford history professor who was apparently on loan to them. Something wasn't right, though, so he swore that he was going to get to the bottom of it if it was the last thing that he did.

"Just call," Captain Irving shouted.

"Yes sir," Detective Jones answered as he slapped his partner on his back and motioned toward the door.

Crane resumed reading while Abbie took a sip of her coffee and fidgeted with her nameplate on her desk. "Is something weighing heavy on your mind?" Crane asked.

"No…nothing," Abbie nonchalantly answered.

Crane smiled at her then looked back down at his book. "Perhaps you and your betrothed should make amends?"

"We were not _betrothed_," Abbie responded with agitation in her voice, mocking his heavy English accent.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Crane shot back, also in a sarcastic tone of voice.

"Shut up, Shakespeare! What do you know, anyway?" Abbie asked as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Whatever you say, Lieutenant," Crane answered smugly, dropping his eyes back down to the book in his hands.

A little later the captain came rushing toward them. "Get to the scene. Morales and Jones need back up. The man has apparently already murdered his ex's new boyfriend in some fit of rage!"

"On it, Captain," Abbie answered as she grabbed her jacket on the back of her chair.

Crane was already on his feet.

They arrived at the scene in a few minutes. Jones was lying unconscious beside the squad car with a head wound while Morales was lying close to where the man was continuing to beat the other man, presumably his ex-wife's new boyfriend. Crane went to Jones to feel for a pulse while Abbie went around the back of the house to sneak up behind the man. Crane then loaded Jones into the back of their car and raced toward Morales to check for a pulse.

"She is mine, not yours!" the demented man shouted as he continued to slam the boyfriend's head into the pavement. Blood was splattered all about.

"Detective Morales, are you well?" Crane said as he patted Morales on the side of his face to try and awaken him.

Morales began to rouse awake. "What the hell are you doing here?" he spat at Crane as he got up on his feet, intentionally bumping into Crane.

"Pardon me, Detective Morales," Crane said.

"Get the hell out of my way and let me do my job," Morales barked, stressing the word _my_.

Crane turned toward the man who continued to repeat "She is mine, not yours!" and slam the boyfriend's head into the road. His lifeless body was way past resistance.

Crane could see Abbie coming up from behind the man as Morales ran toward the man, drew his gun and shouted, "Stop what you're doing and get on your feet!"

The man continued shouting at the dead boyfriend while lifting and slamming his mutilated head into the road. He was barely recognizable as a human being any longer.

Morales motioned to Abbie to stay at a distance. This was his case, and he didn't need her to come in and save the day at the last minute. He especially resented that professor. Moving forward to physically remove the man from the dead form beneath his grasp, Morales tackled the man.

As if a wild animal, the man charged back at Morales, lifting him and slamming him into the road. "She is mine," the man shouted.

Crane and Abbie, from opposite directions, moved forward to help Morales. The man turned and stared at Crane. His expression was dead and conversely wild at the same time. Abbie held her gun steady.

"She is mine!" the man shouted.

"Yes, she is," Crane answered. "Let us talk to determine how we might assist you."

The man shouted again, "She is mine!"

Crane could tell in his eyes that the man was not able to comprehend anything.

"Back away Crane," Abbie shouted. "This isn't going to end well."

"Listen to her. You have no business here," Morales yelled, struggling to get up off the road.

Crane took a step back. The man then began charging at him and threw himself on top of Crane like a wild animal taking down his prey. As Crane hit the road, the impact caused him to lose his breath. The man drew back and punched Crane in the nose. Taking Crane's head into his hands, Abbie feared that the man would inflict the same treatment on Crane as he had done his ex-wife's boyfriend. Her stomach gripped as she instinctively drew in her breath and leveled her gun.

Morales then went rushing forward, knocking the man off Crane. Abbie prepared herself for the killshot.

Crane continued lying on the ground winded from the tackle, blood running down his cheek from his nose.

Beginning to lift Morales for another body slam, the man stood directly in front of Abbie. "I've got no other choice," she shouted toward Morales as she fired the shot, which hit the man squarely between his eyes.

The bullet flew upwards through the man's brain and out the back of his head, causing blood and pieces of skull to fly onto Morales.

Crane, still lying on the ground, looked up in horror at the scene he had just witnessed as Abbie came running forward.

Running past Morales, Abbie rushed over to Crane to help him get up off the pavement. "You okay?" she asked as she pulled a napkin from her coat pocket to give him for his nose. She then slid her hand behind his back and helped him sit up.

"I am in one piece," Crane answered then added, "Which is more than those two men can say."

Morales continued to wipe the man's blood and skull pieces off his face.

"You okay, Luke?" Abbie asked.

Morales didn't acknowledge her question as he headed to his patrol car to check on his partner and call the coroner.

Crane and Abbie walked in silence to her car.

"Thanks, Abbie," Morales shouted at her back.

Abbie turned around to acknowledge him.

Before she could say anything, though, Morales added, "But I had it under control. Take your new boyfriend and go back to your damn books!"

Crane was sitting in the car, not able to hear the exchange between his partner and her ex-boyfriend. However, he could tell from Abbie's facial expression that whatever Morales had said wasn't sitting well with her.

"Is everything alright, Miss Mills?" Crane asked after Abbie got into the vehicle and shut the door.

She turned to say something to Crane but wasn't sure what to even say.

"Did he say something inappropriate to you?"

After a few moments, Abbie answered, "Let's just leave it alone for now."

"As you wish, Lieutenant."

"I'm tired and want to call it a day."

Crane, not sure what that expression meant, turned to look at Abbie as he continued to hold the napkin up to his nose.

"That just means I want to go home." After a few minutes, she added, "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Miss Mills, I believe I'll live," Crane answered.

"I'll take you to the cabin. We have a crazy day tomorrow, so try to rest up."

"But first might I impose on you to take me by the station before the cabin?" Before Abbie could ask why, Crane added, "Corbin had some books that I might find invaluable in my research."

"Research?"

"Yes, something isn't right. No man in his right mind mutilates another man so severely—even for coveting one's own wife. Something was not right with his eyes."

"Looks like a plain ole case of domestic violence to me," Abbie responded. "But help yourself to the books. If you find something interesting, let me know in the morning. I'm tired and want to get a good night's sleep tonight."

Crane could tell that something was bothering Abbie, and he assumed it had something to do with what Morales had said to her as they were leaving the crime scene. However, he decided not to push her on it. She would tell him if and when she thought he needed to know.

As she let him off at the cabin, Crane watched as she sped down the semi-paved road. Corbin's books were antiquated but held information not readily available on what Abbie called _the Internet_.

Even though it was late, he wasn't tired. So he settled down in the wooden rocker beside the blazing fireplace, stacking Corbin's books by the side. He wanted a cup of tea, but modern American tea was very different than the English tea he grew up with. He read for a while until his eyes got tired. He usually resisted sleep because his dreams were often plagued with the horsemen. He was always running…and in the mornings when he awoke, he was always exhausted.

So, regardless of whether or not he got a decent amount of sleep, he was always tired. Knowing that this journey he and Abbie were on was going to last a good amount of years, he hoped that the two of them were up to it.

As he continued to sit by the warm fire, his eyes became heavy and he nodded off to sleep. The last cognizant thought he had was of Abbie. He hoped that she wasn't too upset about whatever Morales had said to her.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: "I am Here to Protect and Help"

_Saturday, December 14, 2013, 2:05 am_

As Abbie drove to the nearest hospital, she continued listening to Crane's labored breathing. His head remained propped against the cold window, and despite the heat blaring on him, he still shivered. "Crane?" she gently said as she touched his arm after shutting down the car outside the Emergency Entrance of the hospital. "Can you walk in, or do you want them to come to you?"

Crane eased himself upright into his seated position. His eyes grew larger as he looked around him, trying to comprehend what was happening.

"We're at the hospital. I need to get you checked out. You took a nasty beating."

He turned his head slowly toward Abbie and shook his head up and down in short upward and downward movements.

While Abbie could tell that he was uncertain by what was happening to him, she knew that he had come to trust her and her judgment. "I'll come around and help you," Abbie offered.

Crane shook his head in the affirmative again.

Moments later they entered the Emergency Room with Crane leaning heavily on her. Abbie caught the eyes of the woman working the front desk. "Need some help here!"

The woman made a quick call, and orderlies hurriedly came through the swinging doors with a gurney.

"My name is Lieutenant Abigail Mills, and I have found this homeless man who needs medical attention. I don't think he speaks English," she said, catching eyes with Crane and giving him a slight nod.

Crane blinked his eyes in acknowledgement.

As the orderlies began lifting Crane onto the gurney, he allowed a scream of pain to escape from his mouth.

"Must have broken ribs," one orderly said to the other. "Come on, mister, we need to get you all the way on here so we can get you to the doctor. You'll feel better soon."

Crane began looking around frantically for Abbie as the orderlies had moved her out of the way so they could attend to him.

"The Lieutenant doesn't think he speaks English, remember? So you're wasting your breath," the second orderly said.

"I'm coming with you," Abbie demanded.

"We can't allow that," the first orderly answered.

"Listen, I have direct orders from my captain to stay with this man because he is the only witness to a crime. If you have any problems with that, then I can give you my captain's name and number."

"Above my pay grade," the first orderly responded. They then wheeled Crane back with Abbie in tow.

"The Intake Nurse will be in to get his information. It's been a crazy time. We've been non-stop for over 24 hours. Something about the 13th being on a Friday seems to bring out the crazies."

"I know what you mean," Abbie said as she walked up to Crane lying on the gurney.

"There will be a little wait, but if the nurse thinks he's critical, we'll bump him up the list," the second orderly stated.

"No problem," Abbie answered.

Abbie saw Crane's eyes still wide open as he frantically looked around the room without moving his head. "Listen, I know this is all new to you, but trust me, you're in good hands. You're going to be alright."

"Thank…you…Miss Mills," Crane whispered as he reached down and took her hand.

She understood how very frightening all this had to have been for him, so she held onto his hand as tightly as she thought he could tolerate. She knew he was always too prideful to ask for clarifications, but she could always tell in his eyes when he was uncertain, confused, or frightened.

Moments later a nurse came through the door. She was way past retirement age, Abbie thought.

"Miss Mills," the nurse nodded.

Abbie nodded in response.

The nurse then began removing his bloodied shirt off his torso as gingerly as possible. Crane moaned in pain as she did.

Abbie was uncertain what was happening. She didn't think that Intake Nurses were supposed to treat patients. She started to say something, but her intuition brought about peace within her mind. The nurse handed Crane's shirt to Abbie and instructed her to wash it in the sink to remove the blood that had collected on it. "He will need his shirt," the Nurse said to Abbie as she smiled reassuringly at her. Abbie then turned toward the sink and squirted lots of soap onto the blood stains as she waited for the water to get hot.

"I know how much pain you must be enduring, and I can see that your temperature is below normal from the cold," she said as she started to caress Crane's ribs.

Abbie expected Crane to scream out in pain, but a look of tranquility was beginning to enter his facial expression. Crane's breathing became less fitful and more rhythmic the longer she rubbed the area on his stomach already dark with bruises. The nurse then took her fingers and made small circular motions over Crane's throat and around his neck. Abbie could see Crane beginning to relax as his eyes were half closed now. He looked as though at any moment he would drop off to sleep.

"What are you doing to him?" Abbie quietly questioned.

The nurse continued to massage his throat around the bruising left by Morales's hand print. She continued going back and forth between his ribs and throat. "Witness," she finally said, "You will be just fine. I am here to protect and care for you…for you both." She then turned her head to look at Abbie. "You both are doing a fine job helping one another, but it is my turn now."

Abbie was bewildered but knew in her heart to allow this woman to continue helping Crane. Whoever she was…and whatever she was doing…seemed to be working.

"We'll then get to that head wound, okay, sweetheart?" she said to Crane like a mother caring for her sick child. She reached up and stroked his bearded cheek reassuringly. Crane closed his eyes the rest of the way, pain from his ribs and throat having been significantly diminished. The nurse took several steps toward Crane's head and bent down to kiss his forehead. "The pain will cease soon," she said as she took her index and middle fingers to make circular motions over the place where she had kissed. "Sit up for me now."

Crane opened his eyes and began sitting up. She carefully moved his long hair to the side and took her outstretched hand and placed it over the wound on the back of his head. Pulling him forward so his head was positioned down against the top of her chest, she then closed her eyes and began to intone a string of words that sounded like a prayer but which Abbie could not understand.

Blood then began secreting from the wound and ran down her hand. She then placed her other hand on top of her bloody hand and kissed the top of his head. She kept her lips directly above his head for several moments as she continued to chant. Several minutes later she said, "You will be well soon."

Carefully putting Crane back down into a supine position, she turned to Abbie and said, "Miss Mills, he will need his boots and coat. Go now to the cabin to retrieve them while I am here with him."

Abbie felt torn. She didn't want to leave him even though she knew this woman would not do him any harm. After looking at Crane resting peacefully, she turned to look into the woman's face. "I need to be able to trust you."

"I am here to protect and help you both. You are my children," the old woman answered.

Abbie felt a sense of peace and turned to go to the cabin to get the items Crane needed to leave the hospital. "Please stay with him while I am gone."

The old woman nodded serenely at Abbie.

Less than 30 minutes later, Abbie returned with Crane's coat and boots. The woman was in the same place as when Abbie had left, continuing to caress his ribs and throat. Crane was still resting.

"You will need to give him a quarter cup of this every hour on the hour for the next 12 hours," the woman said as she handed Abbie a jar filled with a light brown concoction.

Abbie knew better than to ask her what it was. "Okay," she answered.

"It is bitter and will cause discontentment in his body, but after the 12 hours, he will no longer have pain. It is imperative that he do this in order to get completely well."

Abbie shook her head in agreement. "I understand."

"The doctors will be in here soon, but I think you should take Mr. Crane and leave. There is nothing now they can do for him."

Abbie looked down at Crane and smiled. He was a striking man yet quite thin. American cuisine might certainly resolve that for him, she mused to herself. "He looks like the pain is tolerable now…even though the bruising on his ribs and around his neck is still nasty," she said to the Nurse, who nodded in response. She paused as she approached the bed beside him and thought to herself, "How could Morales do such a thing?"

A few moments later, the Nurse said, "He was possessed, Miss Mills. He can't be held accountable. In order to break the spell, his blood cannot get on Mr. Crane during the 24 hour time of possession. When was the detective possessed?"

Abbie was stunned. Could the old woman actually hear her thoughts? She gathered herself and responded, "Maybe a little over eight hours ago."

"He will be hunting Mr. Crane, so it is most important that you keep the detective away from him. Once the 24 hour cycle is broken, then the spell will be broken and this pandemonium will stop…for now…at least."

"Okay. So a quarter cup every hour for the next 12 hours and keep Morales from finding Crane…or getting his blood on Crane. Got ya," Abbie said.

"Yes, Miss Mills. That's about the extent of it. Blood is the key. If the detective's blood were to get on Mr. Crane, then the spell continues."

"But I don't understand," Abbie admitted.

"He's in love with you and sees Mr. Crane as his rival." At that, the old woman turned around and began walking to the door. She then turned back around and gave Abbie a small smile then disappeared into the chaos of the Emergency Room.

Not quite understanding how she felt about the old woman's declaration that Luke was in love with her, Abbie decided to deal with that one later. She had been romantically involved with him, but love? That's not the emotion she believed she felt about him. As a matter of fact, she felt relieved to be able to end the relationship and blame her move to Quintico. But not actually leaving town—and staying to work with some nut job history professor—just added fuel to the already burning fire. Luke couldn't accept that, but she had believed that he would eventually move on. Guess this demon spell literally brought out the worst in him. All of this was certainly something that Abbie felt ill-prepared to deal with at that moment. So she turned around toward Crane. "Hey you. Do you wanna get out of here?"

Crane opened his eyes slightly and smiled up at her. "Yes, Miss Mills, that's a dandy idea." His voice had been fully restored.

Abbie wasn't sure what the safest place for Crane would be, so she settled on the motel just outside the town limits. "Tell me about Succorbenoth," she said as they drove away from the hospital.

"Well, Lieutenant, he's the demon of jealousy. Looks like he's put a spell on Sleepy Hollow. My bet is that we would see erstwhile cases in succession leading up to the gentleman yesterday then to Detective Morales."

"The old woman who healed you said that the spell is broken after 24 hours if Morales doesn't get you…or at least if his blood is not shed onto you."

"Woman who healed me?" Crane asked, his tone of voice disclosing his amazement.

Abbie turned to look at Crane. "You don't remember?"

"I recall us leaving the woods…and now. We're still in your motorized vehicle."

Abbie shook her head and turned back toward the road. "Let's just say that we have a…guardian. Not sure if she's an angel or what. But we definitely have someone out there looking out for us."

"Huh," Crane responded. He was aware of not being in so much pain, but he hadn't really thought about why. "Good to know."

As they made their way to the motel, Abbie's mind was focused entirely on how to keep Crane safe for the next 16 hours. She could tell that he was still not in top shape, and she herself was getting fatigued. "We're going to figure this out," Abbie reassured.

Crane wasn't worried, though. "I know, Lieutenant. I have full confidence in you." He smiled at her as she continued to drive down the dark streets of town.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: "Get Me Back"

_Saturday, December 14, 2013, 3:13 am_

"It's called a television," Abbie said as she watched Crane looking wide-eyed at the screen.

He shook his head slightly as his mind tried to grasp the concept. "Yes, I had one of these things at that motel."

"Right," Abbie answered.

Then Crane added, "But as you hit that thing…"

"The remote control," Abbie interjected.

"Ah, yes, the remote control," Crane responded, drawing out the word _remote control_, "It gives you different moving pictures on it. Some are color and some are black and white."

"The older ones were not filmed in color," Abbie responded, hoping he would not ask why because she really didn't want to have to go into the history of film production—not that she was really well versed in that subject.

"Oh, I see," Crane said, still trying to grasp this complicated subject.

Abbie could tell that he was trying to understand but, as usual, left him alone with his thoughts. He was an intelligent man, but everything about their culture had to be incredibly confusing to him. But he often said very little, not wanting to draw attention to himself and his lack of knowledge. "Oh, _It's a Wonderful Life_!" Abbie exclaimed.

"Why yes, Miss Mills, if anything my experience has taught me, then it is definitely that life is wonderful."

"No, I mean the movie."

"Oh," Crane answered.

"I love this movie. It's almost over, but let's watch the ending. It's so moving."

Crane eased himself into a seated position on the bed Abbie had instructed him was his. She chose for him the one closer to the wall away from the window in case Morales tracked them to the motel. He was at least safer there with Abbie and her sidearm blocking him from the entrance.

They watched in silence for a while, Crane leaning his back against the headboard of his bed and Abbie sitting between the two beds with her feet propped up on her bed. She felt a twinge of emotion as George Bailey ran from the bar with his busted lip. Coming unto the bridge, George pleaded, "Clarence! Clarence! Help me Clarence! Get me back! Get me back! I don't care what happens to me. Get me back to my wife and kids. Help me Clarence. Please. Please. I want to live again. I want to live again."

Abbie felt emotional and turned to look at Crane. He had a perplexed expression on his face. She then asked, "Did you and Katrina have children?"

Crane's eyes darted quickly over to her. He hesitated before answering, "No, Miss Mills, we did not." He then looked down at his hands resting on his lap.

Abbie couldn't tell from his tone of voice how he felt answering such a personal question. So, she kept prying, "You want to go back to her, don't know?"

"I try not to agonize over that which I know is not possible," Crane tentatively responded, realizing that he might be prodded into disclosing more than he was comfortable with.

Abbie continued staring at him, trying to determine whether or not she should call him out. She decided not to this time.

They then both turned their attention back to the movie to watch the final scene. Abbie's watch beeped to remind her that it was time for her to administer the potion the Nurse had given her.

Crane wasn't aware of that plan. His memory of the incident had not been restored.

"I need you to drink this," she directed as she handed him the small Styrofoam cup.

"And what pray tell is this?" Crane asked.

"It's supposed to heal you."

Crane gave her a confused look.

"The nurse…guardian…whoever the hell she was…gave it to me for you…. One quarter cup every hour for the next 12 hours. She says it will wreak havoc on your system, but after the last dose, you should be all better."

Crane was wide eyed and seemed to be weighing the situation. He then leaned back and swallowed the liquid in one gulp. "Oh dear God!" he exclaimed. "This is horrendous!"

"Just 11 more to go," Abbie retorted.

Crane turned abruptly and gave her a sour expression. "Let's see what else is on this television while we wait out the spell."

Abbie got the remote and started going up and down the dial. She would pause momentarily to check Crane's reaction to certain shows before moving on to the next. Toward the top of the channel selection as she turned toward Crane, she could tell that the healing potion was beginning to take its toll on him. His head was completely back as he grasped the edge of the bed. "You okay there Crane?"

Saying nothing, Crane raised up his index finger as if to tell her to give him a moment.

"Do you need something? Can I get you water…or maybe you want to lie down?"

"Yeah…maybe I need to lie back," he answered.

Abbie got up and realized that he was sweating and his skin coloring had become pale. She reached up to touch his forehead to determine if he might have a fever. He felt warm to the touch so she went to the bathroom for a washcloth. When she returned, she saw that Crane was asleep with his hands gripping his head. "Crane?" she asked quietly.

No response. She then laid the washcloth on the night stand.

"It's a Wonderful Life" began over again, so she decided to start from the beginning as she took her seat beside Crane on the chair between the two beds. She felt secure with her gun in her lap, but she knew how difficult it would be to actually have to shoot Luke. Crane continued making grumbling noises, alternating his arms from his head to his stomach. His breathing was louder and more intense. The next thing Abbie became aware of as she half-watched the movie was her watch beeping to remind her that the next hour was ready for her to administer the potion. "Crane?" she said a little louder than before. She took the washcloth that had become cold and dabbed at his face and forehead.

Crane opened his eyes and turned up the corners of his mouth slightly at her.

"It's time for your next dose," Abbie said.

Crane drew in a deep breath and began inching upwards on the bed. "Zu Zu's petals?" he questioned.

Abbie was confused for a moment until she realized that he must have been able to hear what was happening in the movie. "Yeah, Zu Zu's petals. Cute, eh?"

Crane smiled again at her then took the cup from her and as before, swallowed the potion in one gulp. He shuddered with the taste and scowled up at Abbie. He wanted to ask if this was absolutely necessary, but he knew that she wouldn't be doing that to him if she didn't believe it was. "You've taken quite a leap of faith, Miss Mills," he declared.

Abbie stared at him.

Smiling broadly up at her, he then added, "Of course at my expense."

"Couldn't have happened to a better person," Abbie joked. She hoped the light hearted bantering would help keep his mind off of what was happening to him. She could tell the potion was too strong for his system, causing him to feel sick. "It will be worth it in the end, you know?"

"I surely hope so," Crane responded.

Abbie watched as cold chills enveloped his body. Nausea must have also taken over as he gripped his stomach with his arms. She continued watching "It's a Wonderful Life" as she could tell the sun was on its way into the morning sky. Some of its rays escaped through the thick aluminum blinds in their room. She was getting tired of the movie and turned to look at Crane. It was curious to her how quickly they had formed their bond and how much she had come to care about him. He was quite odd…but she was also very fascinated by him. After all, no one else before him would have followed her into her dream to help her battle an evil sandman. So she figured they were stuck with one another, and for the first time in her life, she felt as though she actually had someone she could fully trust.

Crane opened his eyes and saw her looking at him. "A sight for sore eyes," he mused.

"Yes," Abbie confirmed. "And believe it or not, but it's almost that time again."

Crane began sitting up in anticipation of taking the Styrofoam cup from her to swallow down the bitter potion that was supposed to heal him by the 12th hour. He was a believer, so it was not a stretch for him to trust that a guardian had come to take care of him. And he was happy that Abbie had come to that place in her mind.

Minutes after swallowing the potion, the room started to spin at an incredible rate of speed. "Miss Mills," Crane faintly said, "I can't get my bearings. This damn room won't stop swirling. It is making me feel quite ill in my stomach."

"Hang in there, okay?

"Another vernacular?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. Just try to endure through it. Maybe close your eyes. Try to sleep through it."

Crane wanted to mock the impossible suggestion that sleep would come, but then as he started to speak, he felt sleep over coming his mind. The next thing he became aware of was Abbie making circular motions on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's that time again," Abbie said.

Without any hesitation, Crane sat up, took the potion in one gulp, then lay back down in the bed. They continued that regimen to the last dose.

"This is the last one, thank God," Abbie declared as she waited for Crane to sit up.

"Well, I was getting rather used to the gut wrenching concoction. Perhaps we can seek out our guardian for some more in case we ever desire a night cap."

Even though his words were often laced with sarcasm, Abbie could tell that he was way past his tolerance and patience for this situation. However, she could also tell that with each dose, he was able to sit up quicker and with fewer and fewer groans of pain. The bruising had faded significantly, now only a slight reminder of the whole incident.

"You know we're vulnerable…or as you would say, we're sitting ducks…staying here all this time?" Crane asked.

"Yeah, been thinking about that, too. I just don't know what else to do. We have four or more hours left until the spell is broken…assuming the point of infection was nine last night." She didn't hear a response from Crane, so she turned to look at him.

He appeared to be deep in thought.

"Let's get through this next dose then we can talk some more. She handed Crane the cup and sat back down on the chair beside him.

"Why is it that every time I awake, I see Mr. Bailey?"

"It's called a marathon. TV stations re-run shows over and over, especially at Christmas."

"Interesting," Crane responded. He then tipped back the cup and took the last of the potion.

Abbie took the cup from him and discarded it in the garbage can. She could hear Crane taking a deep breath in as if he were preparing for a great battle. Looking back at Crane propped up against the headboard, shirtless and shoeless, she had never seen him looking so vulnerable. She wanted to say something to him, but as she searched her mind, nothing immediately came to her.

Crane saw her staring at him, "I know…I am in that _home stretch_ of yours…whatever that really means."

"Yep…you're definitely in the home stretch," Abbie answered, even though she felt that the next four hours were really going to be more of a challenge. Sooner or later, Morales would figure out where they were hiding. There weren't that many motels in Sleepy Hollow.

"Oh God, Lieutenant, my gut feels as though it is on fire and my head will explode."

Abbie went to the sink and freshened up the washcloth. She came back to Crane, who was again gripping the sides of the bed. She patted his face and neck with the cool cloth. His skin was hot to the touch. Sweat continued rolling from his head and chest. "Is this helping at all?" she asked, hoping that what she was doing was not making him feel worse.

Crane opened his eyes halfway and nodded.

Abbie continued applying the cool cloth until she could hear his rhythmic breathing.

"God, I hope this is over soon," he whispered aloud as he continued looking up at the ceiling.

"It will be," she affirmed. She then went and freshened up the cloth and put it back on his forehead.

Crane continued staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows of George Bailey and Bedford Falls dance on the ceiling tiles above. He trusted Miss Abigail Mills and believed her when she said that all this would be over soon. His mind became tranquil, and he dropped off to sleep.

Abbie exhaled a pent up breath as she saw him relaxing and giving in to sleep. She could hear Zu Zu telling her daddy that the bell ringing meant an angel was getting his wings. "Okay," she said aloud to herself, "I think I have finally had enough of you." She then took the remote and turned off the television, laughing to herself when she recalled Crane trying to wrap his head around how a remote control could change channels. Even though it was late in the day, the room was dark with the drawn blinds. She decided to give herself a little natural light, so she cracked them a little to allow the sun to peer through. As she made her way back to her chair, she stared at Crane's sleeping form, wondering what her life would be like if their fates hadn't been intertwined. "Certainly not half as entertaining," she mused, even though entertaining was quite a stretch for how her life had been altered. But as she watched him sleep, she realized that at that moment, she could not imagine her life without him in it. She smiled down at him then sat back down on her chair, pulling her gun back onto her lap.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: "Where I'm Needed to Be"

_Saturday, December 14, 2013, 4:49 pm_

Crane awakened to the glaring sun escaping through the blinds. Squinting, he looked at the clock, which read 4:49. He was starving, and his head was hurting. The first thing he realized he had to do was bathe. The cold sweat had left him feeling unkempt. Abbie was still sitting in the chair beside him with her feet propped up on her bed. Her gun still lay in her lap with her hand on it. She had nodded off to sleep, so her head was bent down onto her chest. He didn't want to wake her, so he was conscious to be quiet as he made his way to the end of the bed to go to the bathroom. As soon as he got to his feet, however, his legs gave out from underneath him and he fell to the floor.

The jangling noise startled Abbie awake. "What the hell?" she gasped, her heart racing.

"I'm alright," Crane answered from the floor in front of the bed. "I haven't quite developed my sea legs yet," he quipped.

Abbie came forward and helped Crane to his feet. "It's been a long while since you've been on your feet, hasn't it?" She noticed how unsteady he was. But he seemed embarrassed so she let the subject drop.

"Yes, and I'm quite famished."

"You and me both," Abbie answered. "How about I run quickly to get us some food while you shower."

"An impeccable plan, Miss Mills."

"I'll throw your clothes in the washer on my way."

Raising his right eyebrow, Crane turned to give her an inquisitive look.

"Don't worry, _Mr. Proper Gentleman_, there are plenty of towels you can use to cover up until they're dry."

Crane lowered his eyebrow then headed toward the bathroom, holding onto the wall as he walked. As he got into the bathroom, he headed for the shower and adjusted the water to a temperature quite warmer than what he was accustomed to and stepped over into the shower. He had become familiar with motel showering from his first few days in the 21st century when Abbie had put him in one of the other town's motels.

Abbie wasn't completely comfortable leaving him, but since Morales had not found them so far, she was gaining confidence that they were going to make it. The motel's restaurant and laundry facility were just a two minute walk across the parking lot. "I'll be back in ten minutes tops," she yelled toward the shower while she collected his pants from the bathroom floor. She noticed the cellphone she had given him still in his pocket. Spots of dried blood were smeared across the face of the phone. She felt a little responsible for what he had had to endure, but her rational mind knew that it wasn't her fault. She then went to gather up the other garments that had been strewn all around the motel room.

"Yes, ten minutes _tops_," he answered back in a voice not loud enough for her to even hear. His answer was meant more for him than her anyway.

The hot shower and fragrant soap felt good to Crane as he stood over the jetting water, allowing it to run through his hair and down his body. The head wound must have completely healed because he felt nothing on the back of his head as he washed his hair. The bruising on his ribs and neck had disappeared as well. "That was some potent potion," he said to himself. He continued to stand under the shower as he heard Abbie yell through the closed door that she was back with some food.

"I shall be there shortly," Crane answered. The water was beginning to lose its warmth, which was his queue that it was time to get out. Drying off then wrapping the towel around his midsection, Crane emerged from the bathroom, his skin rosy colored from the hot water.

"Did you save me any hot water at all?"

Not quite grasping the concept of modern day hot water tanks, Crane was not sure how to answer her question. "I do not know, but it was still rather tepid," he answered.

"It was just a joke," Abbie answered. "Here, I brought hamburgers and fries. That was the quickest." She held forward a Styrofoam to-go container.

"The cup you gave me in which held that God-forsaken potion was made from this same material. What do you call it?" he asked, running his fingers across the top of the container.

"It's called Styrofoam, and it keeps the food or beverage either hot or cold for longer than any other material."

"How peculiar," Crane answered.

"I know, right?"

Crane opened the to-go container and observed the contents in it. How odd they looked to him, but he was quite hungry, so he decided not to question. He watched Abbie pick up her hamburger and bite it, so he did the same. His palate was shaken by something so foreign, and his immediate natural response was to heave. Straining to swallow and keep down the burger, Crane continued eating. He had had nothing in his stomach for over 20 hours.

Abbie could see Crane struggling to eat the burger and greasy fries. His system was already in upheaval after the potion, so this additional shock to his 19th century stomach had to have caused further difficulty for him. "You okay, Crane?"

Crane shook his head. He was doing his best to be _okay _by her standards.

"Looks like all the bruising on your ribs and neck are gone. How about your head?" Abbie asked as she made her way behind him to check out his head where the gash had been.

"I believe it's completely healed, Lieutenant," Crane answered, feeling her thumb through his wet hair to locate the large wound.

"Oh my God. We should bottle up and sell that stuff. We could be millionaires!" Abbie jested.

Crane knew it was a joke, so he just smiled back at her, contemplating whether or not 12 hours of agony was worth the pain of a bruised throat, broken ribs, and a head wound. He supposed it was worth it in the long run.

Crane continued slowly eating while Abbie went back to the laundry facility to put his clothes in the dryer. He thought about Morales and his jealousy of him over Abbie, who had not been very forthcoming about their relationship. He hadn't pushed her on it, but he now realized that their relationship had to have been deeper than she had let on. He then started thinking about Succorbenoth. "Even if it stops, it won't stop," he said aloud to himself. He turned as he heard the motel door opening. To his relief, it was Abbie. There was still a part of him that believed that at any time, Morales could come barreling through the door after him. Where Morales had been during this time was a mystery to him.

"It's just me," Abbie said as she saw Crane jump slightly as she entered the room. Did you say something?" Abbie asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant," Crane answered, gathering his thoughts. He then continued. "Suppose we actually elude Detective Morales for another three hours. Then what?"

"Well, the spell is broken," Abbie replied. "But I don't think it's going to be a problem. I just called the captain, and he said they hadn't heard anything from Morales, so they tracked his cell phone to the woods near the cabin. Apparently he had a nasty head wound, so they took him to the hospital. They attributed his crazed state to the head wound, so they've kept him in the hospital."

"How convenient," Crane answered, remembering smashing the wooden lamp over Morales's head. "Okay, so the spell is broken…the spell on Sleepy Hollow that is. But, Succorbenoth goes on. He'll move to the next little town, and all this continues."

Abbie's eyes became wide as she bent down without looking and sat on the edge of the bed. "Oh my God, I hadn't considered that," she said.

"We have to defeat Succorbenoth before it's too late, Lieutenant. We can't have this happen to others."

"But how? Where do we even find him? And what the hell does he even look like?"

Crane contemplated her questions as he looked down at the floor then around the room. "A bridge…"

"What?"

"Is there a old bridge that perhaps might take you out of Sleepy Hollow?"

Abbie immediately remembered the old bridge where the mill used to be way before her time. It was now an historic landmark, but it rarely got a visitor. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "But why a bridge?"

"Succorbenoth is the guard of bridges, so I suppose if he's anywhere, he would be there."

"But how do we actually defeat this demon?"

"That, Miss Mills, I have yet to figure out," Crane admitted.

"How reassuring," Abbie scoffed.

"Quite premature for you to doubt me."

"Not doubt, just fear," Abbie admitted.

"We will be quite fine. Succorbenoth will not be expecting us, so we will be in a favorable position."

"So we'll have the upper hand because we'll be surprising him?" Abbie asked as she looked at Crane with an expression of disbelief on her face. She then added, "Well, we only have several hours to figure this out."

A little later, Abbie returned with Crane's clothes, warm and clean. Crane drew them up to his nose and smiled at the sweet fragrance exuding from them. "Okay, Miss Mills, I'll get dressed and we'll go. Let's amass every type of weapon available to you in the 21st century."

A few minutes later, Crane emerged from the bathroom like a man on a mission. "Shall we Miss Mills?" he asked, not waiting for her to answer as he bolted to the door.

Abbie shook her head as she followed him out of their room and waited for Crane's puzzled expression when he didn't immediately see her car. "It's a safe distance from here."

"Oh," Crane answered as he allowed her to take lead.

They then got to her car and headed toward the old Mill Bridge.

"Umm, Miss Mills…weapons?"

"I don't know who you think I am, but this gun right here is as good as it gets. Don't worry, I have one for you, too. Look in the glove box," she instructed, motioning to the car's glove compartment at his knees.

He leaned forward and took the gun, looking it over.

"Remember, it holds more than one bullet," Abbie mockingly stated.

He turned to glare at her with a half-smile.

A little later Abbie drew in a large breath as she pulled beside the old bridge and killed the engine of her car. "Here goes nothing," she said as she exhaled.

"Quite the contrary, Lieutenant. It will be something. What? Well, that's yet to be determined."

"Let's just do this."

They got out of the car, both holding their guns as if expecting to see Succorbenoth immediately upon reaching the old bridge. The air was quite cold, and both of them shivered from dread and the frigid air that that kept slapping them in their faces.

Crane moved forward and stood self-assuredly in the middle of the bridge. Abbie was captivated by his demeanor and decided to follow his lead. They both looked down at the gushing river below.

"This used to be a popular spot when I was a kid," Abbie stated. "We used to come here and party."

"You are a woman of many dimensions," Crane answered.

Abbie smiled in return. She then saw Crane flip suddenly around.

"Succorbenoth...your spell will be broken soon," Crane stated boldly.

Abbie turned to see the demon, large and black with clear green eyes blazing from their sockets. He had to have been close to seven feet tall. The flesh on his face was rutted, and his hands sported long black nails stained with what Abbie presumed was blood.

"Sad but true that Sleepy Hollow will escape this time with very little carnage," he said in a diabolical voice, which made Abbie shudder. Crane continued to stand forthright. He didn't appear to be jarred by the evil demon.

"We see you for who you really are, and we're here to tell you that you will not harm another living soul," Crane warned.

"So how about you?" the demon cajoled.

"I…I am alive now," Crane responded.

"Are you now?" Succorbenoth taunted, seizing that moment to thrash at Crane and send him flying to the side.

Crane was startled by the force at which the demon sent him flying. He landed on the gravely pavement face first with his hands drawn up slightly to catch his fall. Small pebbles stuck to the palms of his hands.

"Crane!" Abbie yelled, running over to him. She could hear Succorbenoth laughing sardonically in the background.

"I'm okay, Lieutenant," Crane said as he sat up.

Abbie saw Crane's eyes grow large as she heard him begin to yell her name. She turned quickly but not before the demon had reared back and threw her to the ground with a mighty force. As she opened her eyes, she saw Crane coming toward her, blood running from his nose down to his chin. As Crane made his way toward Abbie, she said as loudly as possible, "I'm okay...watch out for yourself!"

Succorbenoth continued laughing in the background. These two were certainly no competition for his mighty force.

Relief filled Crane's face as he reached down and helped Abbie get to her feet. He stood in front of her and charged at Succorbenoth. They both went flying to the ground. The demon was apparently caught off guard, though.. Crane and Succorbenoth continued to scuffle, rolling around the bridge, each hitting one another. Crane was smaller and not as impenetrable as Succorbenoth, so the match was uneven. Crane was surely to lose.

"Crane!" Abbie yelled as she reached down and pulled him up off Succorbenoth by the collar of his jacket. Within a second, she aimed her pistol and shot the demon squarely in the eye. Translucent green smoke arose from the demon's eye, and within a moment, he lay motionless on the bridge, steam emitting from his corpse. Abbie watched him for several moments to make sure he had been eradicated. Still holding onto Crane's collar, she then let loose to be able to walk around the demon to check him out thoroughly. Crane slumped down to the road, groaning as he went down. Abbie could hear the guttural noises that absconded from Crane's throat but was immediately focused on the demon. She knew she had to verify the demon's demise before attending to him.

No movement or sound emitted from Succorbenoth. His form lay motionless and silent on the pavement.

"Is he dead?" Abbie could hear Crane ask from behind her. "Yes!" she called back at him. "I'm getting kind of sick of asking this, but are you alright?"

Crane laughed a little to himself. "Yes, I think I'll live."

"That's good because I damn well don't want to continuing fighting this fight without you."

Crane came up beside Abbie, who was still standing over Succorbenoth. "One can only hope that this escapade of ours with this demon has truly taken him down."

"I know what you mean," Abbie answered. "Come on, let's take care of his body and get the hell out of here."

Together, they rolled the demon to the railing of the bridge and hoisted him over the side. He was incredibly heavy, but they made a good team. Abbie reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a napkin. "Deja Vue," she said as she held the napkin toward Crane. He took the napkin and blotted at his nose.

"Are you hurt?" Crane asked Abbie.

"I've had worse."

Crane smiled down at her as they stood by the bridge railing, watching Succorbenoth's body wash down stream. "You know, the irony here is not lost on me."

Abbie wasn't sure what he meant.

"Help me Clarence! Get me back!" Crane yelled down toward the water.

Abbie laughed. "I've had my fill of that movie for the next ten years!"

Crane continued staring down at the water. He then turned to look at Abbie, saying nothing but having a strange expression on his face.

"What is it, Crane?"

Inhaling deeply, Crane then said softly, "You had asked me if I wanted to go back to Katrina."

"Yeah," Abbie answered.

Exhaling, he said in a more affirmative voice, "Yes. I miss her terribly." He paused for a moment then continued, "I miss the life we had together. I miss the fact that we didn't get to have children."

Abbie turned to look down at the pavement. Crane glanced up at the sky and looked around at the heavens for a few moments. "But, Miss Mills. No, I don't want to go back there." He paused for another moment.

Abbie, quite surprised by his admission, looked up at him. They locked eyes.

"I believe I am precisely where I am needed to be," Crane added, turning up his mouth slightly.

Abbie smiled back, inserting her arm into his arm as he stood with his hand on his hip. "I think so, too. And I am so glad we have found one another," she answered. She then added, "Let's get out of here and get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

They began walking alongside one another to her car.

Not knowing if she meant it literally or if that phrase was part of the vernacular, Crane repeated, "Yes indeed, Miss Mills. Tomorrow is another day."

The End

A/N: I hope you have enjoyed this little story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I appreciate everyone who read it and let me know your thoughts. It's been great to enter the Sleepy Hollow world. -Jenny


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